Immunity Through Experience
by DystopianDystrophy
Summary: Harry Potter has a strange ability- he can only be hurt once. The second time, nothing happens... (Warning: may contain some graphic descriptions of injuries.)
1. Chapter 1

He was tired.

He always was, and particularly so today.

Dying is a very tiring thing, contrary to what many tombstones may have led one to believe.

Maybe because he could never truly move on.

_One step forwards, and two steps back._

However, the many ends were all very interesting, now. That was the only way, after all.

_Death is capable of nearly endless creativity in its sole art._

He was sure he heard that somewhere, but he couldn't remember who said it, or when.

He couldn't be hurt the same way twice, but there's always first for everything. And the memory remains...


	2. Chapter 2

Between heavy congested breaths, Uncle Vernon managed to growl out some words with only a little bit of slurring. "We pay to keep you fed and housed, we do so much for you- and how do you return the favor? By destroying our property and dirtying our home!" He paused to catch his breath. "No more of this ungratefulness… No more of your _freakishness_…." At this point he started to get a strange glint in his beetle like eyes.

Harry felt more nervous than ever before. Uncle Vernon practically _smelled_ unhinged, (or maybe that was just the alcohol.)

He took off his belt (Harry was confused at this- he was too young to fully grasp the situation.)

He drew his arm back, and brought it down on Harry's back. Harry screamed briefly before the spot grew oddly numb. Uncle Vernon whipped him a second time, but all Harry felt was a slight pressure. He relaxed a bit.

Vernon was too caught up in his own rage-filled thoughts to immediately notice, and continued for another minute before stopping to wonder why he wasn't screaming any more.

He slapped Harry across the face- he gasped, but the stinging quickly stopped and he just stared Uncle Vernon in the eyes.

Vernon started to feel a little worried somewhere in the back of his mind and he glared down at Harry. "Mess up one more time, and you'll regret it," he promised Harry, who just nodded.

Vernon went to bed that night feeling rather disturbed. He never could bring himself to hit Harry again after that.

The first death occurred on a normal Monday. Harry woke up bright and early, as was his forced habit by now, and he cooked a hearty English breakfast for his relatives. He got ready for school after-(There wasn't much to pack, as all his homework had gone missing the previous night)- and walked out the front door to the curbside to wait for the school bus. It came, and with only mild difficulty he hopped up the steps and to a seat. Dudley tried to shove him around, but he ducked past his cousin and to a seat.

Harry was in a decidedly good mood- their class was going on a field trip of sorts, and this was his first time seeing the zoo! He was determined not to let his cousin's actions get him down, and so he kept his head high and bounced through his morning classes with much more enthusiasm than usual.

Unfortunately for him, he never made it to the school bus. His rotund cousin Dudley (_Whose mother always called a "cherubic angel" in the most sickeningly sweet voice,) _gave him a firm shove with an accompanying "_Ha!" _and Harry fell over the top.

Harry was too surprised to shout, and he practically flew over the first handful of steps before landing on his face just shy of clearing the eighth step, about halfway down the staircase.

His body followed behind at a rather different angle, and he felt a brief pain and pressure on his neck before there was, well, nothing at all any more.

That one moment of _nothing_ was one of the longest moments of Harry's entire life so far.

Then light returned, and he to his surprise he found himself back in his cupboard.

He had long ago learned not to make any sort of sound, and the undetermined length of time with the _nothing_ had calmed him down a lot. So he took a few deep breaths and tried to think about _what exactly had just happened?! _

His first thought was that the day had been just a dream, but it wasn't morning outside the cupboard.

_Did I just die?_ He wondered. _Hurt less than I expected._ He rolled over in his cot. He could hear his cousin throwing something around in his room, and his uncle using the shower. He got a strange feeling of deja-vu before realizing that this had all happened the day before.

His uncle came stomping down the stairs and rapped her knuckles on the door.

"Boy, you're going to weed the garden in five minutes. Go get the trowel from the garage." Vernon huffed from the exertion that came with unlocking a cupboard.

Harry crawled out slowly and blinked up at the bright light coming in from the window, before nodding and trudging off to the garage.

It was a hot day outside, but for some reason he never seemed to get sunburned.

He always healed quickly, and he supposed sunburns were no exception. He started with the oddly large herb garden his aunt claimed to have cultivated (he knew that it was actually him who did the work.)

A tiny garden snake slithered by the edge of the box, and he nodded to it.

It nodded back casually, and they both went about their business. That was rather commonplace really, and Harry could tell the snake sympathized with him.

Soon the rest of the garden was done, and Harry went inside to wash his hands.

His aunt said a familiar line- "When you're done, come in and wash the dishes."

Harry nodded again and went to the sink.

Everything was as it had been before, and Harry pushed the events from earlier out of his head, except when the trip came around again he made sure to stay back from the top of the stairs until his cousin finished waddling down.


	3. Chapter 3

A few days before Harry's eleventh birthday, the mail arrived.

This wasn't an unusual occurrence, and the the resulting conversation was nearly a routine by now.

"Someone get the mail," Vernon grunted.

"Dad, make Harry get it," Dudley whined.

"Harry, get the mail."

Dudley waved his new Smeltings Academy stick menacingly (nearly knocking a vase of fake flowers over,) and so Harry grudgingly walked over to the front door, bending over to pick up the various letters.

_Water bill, postcard from Marge _("Ew," Harry muttered under his breath,) _Another bill and- what._

What.

A letter…. Addressed to _him?_

Harry stared. He'd never gotten a letter before. It was addressed properly, too- it was to be delivered to _'The Cupboard-Under-The-Stairs.'_

It was, undeniably and unquestionably, his. He noted the nice shining green ink.

Harry was nothing if not at least mildly clever, and so tucked the letter into his waistband and returned to the living room, walking a little stiffly. He set the mail down on coffee table, and quickly slipped _his _letter into the darkness of the back of the cupboard, while he got his schoolwork ready for the day.

Nothing could ruin his good mood, not even Dudley and his Harry Hunting.

The day passed boringly. School was easy, Dudley was dumb, school was boring, Dudley was dumber. Harry had to fake a low grade on a test, but he was used to that.

When Harry got sent into his cupboard after dinner, it was all he could do to keep the glee off his face as he closed himself inside.

Using the faint hall light, he used a finger to carefully tear open the thick, expensive-feeling, and oddly _heavy_ paper.

He opened it and slowly began to read.

Dear Mr. Potter, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list all necessary books an equipment.

Yours sincerely,

Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall

A packet of paper that was curiously larger than the original envelope promptly fell out of the letter. Harry stared. It all sounded absolutely ridiculous, but he'd done some strange things in the past. The whole not-dying thing, being more or less invincible. He decided to let them come to him, if they were real. After all, he didn't even have an owl.

Another handful of days passed, and it was Dudley's birthday. He glared resentfully at the absolutely _massive_ pile of presents on the rug. _Who needs _thirty-seven_ presents?! Who gets that many presents, and still asks for more?! _Dudley did.

The phone rang, and Aunt Petunia picked it up.

Harry couldn't hear the conversation, but he could tell it was nothing good as her face grew more and more angrier by the minute, before she slammed the phone back into the receiver. Her lips pursed into an angry line, she turned to her husband. "Arabella's bedridden— broke her leg yesterday. Tripped over one of those horrible cats of hers, no doubt. The boy'll have to come with us."

Vernon's face darkened a shade, but he looked to his son to see what would happen.

Dudley screwed his face up, and started to do a decent imitation of crying. "Don't— want to— go with him!_" _He choked out with a watery wail. "He ruins_ everything!_"

Harry quietly shook his head in disgust.

Vernon looked at Petunia. "Could we leave the brat at home?"

Harry's hopes were dashed when Petunia shook her head and grimaced. "We can't— he'd probably burn down the house."

Vernon's face turned an ugly red color, but before he could say anything, the doorbell rang. Aunt Petunia answered it.

It was Piers Polkiss, and his parents. (For some reason he couldn't quite explain, Harry never thought of him as either just Piers or Polkiss- for some reason, he was definitely both.) Dudley waddled up to greet his friend, and the family of three shut the door behind him. Piers Polkiss's father, a thin man with a long nose, shook Uncle Vernon's hand. "Good to see you again, Vernon," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, but something's come up and we can't go with you to the zoo today. Do you think you could watch our boy for us?"

Uncle Vernon, never one to back down from a challenge, merely said "Of course I can. Don't worry about it." Privately, Harry was impressed with how well that worked.

Harry did his best to melt into the background, not wanting to cause a fuss. After another minute, Piers Polkiss's parents left with a wave. Dudley was boasting about his present count to Piers Polkiss, who was looking a little envious of the massive pile. Harry looked down at his shoes, and waited.

The car ride was bumpy, and since Harry was the thinnest of them all, he got to sit in the center of the bench seat. It was a bumpy ride, but he didn't feel it. A feeling of excitement started to bubble up through him- he was going to the zoo!

They rolled to a stop, and Harry got out last. Dudley tried to slam the door shut on his fingers, but the just bounced off- Dudley looked disappointed for a moment.

Harry looked up at the large letters. The London Zoo.

_Nice, _he thought, as he trotted behind Dudley.

* * *

A/N So yup, this is my first story. To my first reviewer, TheShardsOfDarkness2138, thank you, it means the world to me!

This might sound a little like one of ShayneT's fics, I _did _get a bit of inspiration from that. However, it's going to be different.

The first 3 chapters were mostly written a few months ago- I promise, my writing's gotten better!

I have no concrete updating schedule... but I'll likely post Chapter 4 before the end of next week. Thank you for reading!


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